


From Darkness Comes the Light

by ReidFan



Category: Criminal Minds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 16:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7369804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReidFan/pseuds/ReidFan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a coda for "Sex, Birth, Death" season 2, episode 11, written by Chris Mundy and acted in a most excellent manner by Matthew Gray Gubler and Anton Yelchin.</p><p>From the Darkness Comes the Light is a short retrospective about Nathan Harris by Dr. Spencer Reid, inspired by several online CM friends of mine in a discussion held after the horrible news of the death of Anton Yelchin. I wanted a follow up to this episode long ago, and sadly, we will never get the one I would have liked now, so this will have to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Darkness Comes the Light

“From the Darkness Comes the Light”

A Coda for Sex, Birth, Death--A Criminal Minds fanfiction

 

Episode written by Chris Mundy, quotes taken from it belong only to him and whoever owns Criminal Minds. I own nothing.

 

©mccabebabe@hotmail.com (Reidfan)

 

 

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**In loving memory of Anton Yelchin, who left this world far too soon; too many stories left untold, too much life left unlived, too much family time left unspent. Anton Viktorovich Yelchin March 11, 1989-June 19, 2016.**

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Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness _-Desmond Tutu_

 

Give light and the darkness will disappear of itself _-Desiderius Erasmus_

 

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         “And there was a phone call, Sir Hotch, from a lady we haven’t heard from in years,” Penelope Garcia was telling the Unit Chief.

 

         “We’ll be landing in an hour, Garcia. We should be back at the office in about ninety minutes. Who was it?” Aaron Hotchner sat across from the sleeping David Rossi on the BAU’s jet, en route back to Washington DC upon their successful conclusion of their latest case. Behind them, Agent Jennifer Jareau was on her own cell phone, chatting quietly with her husband while across from her, curled up in another seat, slept Doctor Spencer Reid.

 

         “It was Dr. Sarah Harris, Sir. She was hoping to talk to Dr. Reid.”

 

         “Did she leave her number?”

 

         “She did. I will send it to you if you like,” she told him.

 

         “No, Garcia. That’s okay. I’ll have Reid call her when we get back, he’s sleeping right now, he was up far into the night talking our unsub down. Not to mention going to the hospital with him afterwards. It must’ve been four am before he and Rossi finally got back to the hotel.”

 

         “Successful night, Sir?”

 

         “Very. Reid connected with our unsub, Garcia. He managed to get him to put down his weapon, let his hostage go. A perfect negotiation. Listen, empathise, establish rapport, influence, and behavioral change. Textbook.”

 

         Garcia smiled as she replied, “You all must be so exhausted.”

 

         “I think I’ll just have the team go home to get some rest when we land. We’ll reassemble and debrief this afternoon. Garcia, you could go home too, come back for 3 pm?”

 

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         “And I think it would be great for us to all just go out for dinner together tonight, that Italian place Dave recommended?” Hotchner asked as he concluded their debriefing that afternoon.

 

The others all concurred with this idea and rose from their chairs. Garcia tapped Reid on the arm and beckoned him to follow her to her office. There, she handed him a sheet of paper as she told him,

 

“Dr. Harris called yesterday while you guys were all in Bakersfield. I explained you were away on a case and she left her number and asked that I have you call her, sometime tomorrow as she’s away on business today.”

 

“Dr. Sarah Harris?” Reid asked as Garcia nodded acknowledgement. Memories flooded Reid’s mind as he thought back to a case from more than ten years ago. “Did,” he paused, his voice betraying slight apprehension, “Did she say what this was about?” Garcia shook her head and patted his arm, knowing he was thinking about their shared past experience: preventing the suicide of Dr. Harris’ only child.

 

         “Oh, Reid—Spencer,” Garcia started, her tone softening. Their eyes met and Garcia pushed him down into her office chair. “Dr. Harris didn’t say, but, I, well, I searched,” she paused to steel herself—and Reid—and took a deep breath, “Nathan Harris died a week ago. The funeral was the day before yesterday.” There was another pause as she squeezed Reid’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

 

         Reid slumped in the chair, staring at the floor as he absorbed the information. Garcia continued to stroke his arm sympathetically and said nothing for a long moment. Finally, Reid’s gaze lifted to meet hers and in a very quiet voice he asked,

 

         “Did he,” he paused, heaving a sigh, “Did he,” he paused again as his eyes filled with unshed tears. Garcia interrupted his unfinished question.

 

         “No. No he didn’t, Spencer. It was an accident. From what I could find out, he was just walking along 37th Avenue and a car mounted the sidewalk and hit him and another student. An accident, a terrible accident, according to the official police report.”

 

         She knelt down to Reid’s level and enveloped him in a hug as the tears started to fall from two pairs of eyes.

 

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“Thank you for getting back to me the other day. I’m sorry to meet again under these circumstances, Dr. Reid,” Sarah Harris offered her hand in greeting and Spencer Reid extended his own in return. She ushered him into her office, closing the door behind him and accepted the small floral arrangement of sympathy he held out to her.

 

         “Thank you, please sit down,” she set the flowers down on the side of the desk and indicated he should seat himself in one of the two armchairs situated immediately before her desk. He did so and was surprised to notice that instead of sitting behind her desk, she sat next to him in other armchair.

 

         “I’m sorry about Nathan, Dr. Harris,” Reid stated simply. “I’m sorry I missed the service, I didn’t know.”

 

         She nodded acknowledgement, quietly reassuring him, “It’s all right. Dr. Reid, I wouldn’t have expected you to,” she was leaning forward, playing with several folders full of papers on her desk as she spoke and she picked one of them up.

 

         “Nathan was much better. He’d done years of psychotherapy, Dr. Reid. That and his medication. He was conquering those demons. He was attending university, writing and drawing and working part time too.”

 

         She opened the folder and removed several papers from it, handing them over to Reid as she spoke.

 

         “I was going through his things, Dr. Reid and I found those.”

 

         His eyebrows rose as he recognised Jason Gideon’s handwriting on the outside of the manila envelope, addressed to Nathan. Removing the contents, Reid looked down at the portrait he’d done of Nathan, a drawing he’d done more than ten years ago. A wistful smile crossed his face as he recalled Nathan asking him for it, and having to turn down the request, as it had still been part of the investigation at the time.

 

         “When Nathan was released following the suicide attempt you thwarted—and I thank God for that every day, Dr. Reid—he spent almost a year in psychotherapy. His therapist suggested getting in touch with Agent Gideon. It was Gideon who sent him that drawing, as well as your business card.”

 

         Reid shuffled through some of the other papers Dr. Harris had handed to him. There was an assortment of artwork and writings. Reid was happy to see that Nathan had tapped into his creativity to help his recovery. Both showed a progression from dark images and thoughts to more optimistically inclined creations. It certainly did appear that Nathan Harris had persevered and made advancements. Reid chewed on his lower lip, as he recalled the last face-to-face conversation he’d had with Nathan.

 

_Who we are is-it's constantly evolving, I'm a lot older than you, and I'm changing all the time. You know, this- this job changes me. You've changed me. You sought me out to try to understand how not to harm people._

_It's a far more important part of who you are than the one that scares you._

 

_My mom wants to have me go to a hospital for a little bit._

 

_Maybe that's not such a bad idea._

_You know, once they lock me up, they're never gonna let me out of there._

 

_You don't know that._

_Whatever. I just came to say good-bye._

_When you going in?_

_Supposed to be tomorrow. So, last night of freedom. I don't know. I'm- thank you for caring._

_They’d reached out to shake hands at that._

 

         He shook off the memory and raised his eyes to meet Dr. Harris’ gaze. She was holding a notebook up against her chest as she waited while Reid was going through Nathan’s papers. Now, she held the notebook out to Reid.

 

         “It’s one of his journals. He wrote extensively; about his thoughts and experiences and what was happening around him. His dreams and desires. And his friend. You.”

 

         Reid bit his lower lip as he took the proffered book.

 

         “He talked about you often, Dr. Reid. Every time I came to visit him, we ended up talking about you. Saving his life. At first, he was unhappy about that, but over time he came to appreciate what you did for him—for us—that day.”

 

         She got up and walked around the room, stopping at a window to look out over the cityscape. He could hear the tone of her voice grow more contemplative as she reminisced.

        

         “Nathan was studying criminal law and justice at Georgetown, Dr. Reid. He knew with his history that he would never make the FBI, but he was interested in your work and wanted to know all about it. He was working towards his second degree.”

 

         She pulled aside a curtain and heaved a sigh, shielding her eyes at the sudden brightness in the room. Turning to face Reid again, she continued,

 

         “He was working very hard, Dr. Reid. And he was getting over the fear. The fear of his own mind. The dark thoughts. He wanted to get better. He really did.”

 

         Reid nodded, gesturing with one hand that she should continue.

 

         “You’re probably wondering why he reached out to Agent Gideon and not you. Truth is he wanted to. After Gideon sent your things, Nathan really wanted to contact you. But he wanted to be in a better place first. He was just starting to feel ready to see you. We talked about it only last month. He wanted you to see that he was changing, for the better. Just like you’d said.”

 

         She paused as a smile crossed her face, remembering her son’s commitment to getting better. “He was conquering the fear, Dr. Reid. He had a grip on how to handle the urges to want to hurt people.”

 

         Making a motion towards the journal in Reid’s hands, she added, “He drew lots of images. And he wrote lots of journals. But in that one, he wrote about you. And I think, considering that he was wanting to connect with you again, I think he’d want you to have that one.”

 

         He rose from the chair and patted the book with one hand. “I—I’m—thank you.”

 

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         She removed the tea ball from the mug, emptied the leaves into the compost bin and added milk and sugar to the tea before carrying it into the living room and placing it on the coffee table in front of Spencer Reid.

 

         Sitting down next to him, she ruffled his hair and then slipped her arm around him.

 

         He murmured a thank you for the tea, took a long sip of it and continued flipping through the pages of the notebook.

 

         “Tell me about Nathan,” Penelope Garcia asked him, squeezing his arm. Reid sighed and leaned against Garcia for a moment, then opened the journal to read,

 

         “ _He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. The only friend I’ve ever had. He’s saved my life twice. The first time, over ten years ago when I thought to save the world I’d have to end my own life instead of killing somebody else._ ”

 

         Reid paused as both he and Garcia remembered that terrible night. Their eyes locked for a moment and then Reid broke the contact and set the journal down on the table. He stared out the window and Garcia waited quietly while Reid silently collected his feelings. Finally, he picked the book up again and resumed reading,

 

         “ _He taught me to look for the light. To seek out the good in my darkness. And by doing so, saved my life a second time. He didn’t judge me. He understood me. He reached out and brought me in from the darkness back to the light that he saw in me. The light that I did not see then. And now I’m no longer afraid. Now, when my thoughts turn to darkness, I know how to return to the light.”_

Reid handed the journal over to Garcia. He picked up the mug and took another long sip of the tea, sighed and motioned for Garcia to continue reading. She flipped through the first few pages and paused, smiling at the drawing Nathan Harris had apparently done of Reid and marveling at the likeness. Nathan’s artwork had managed to capture Reid’s empathy and compassion, and Garcia’s smile widened as she noticed that the expression on Reid’s face at that very moment mirrored the very one Nathan had drawn. Patting his arm, she found where he’d left off and read,

 

         “ _I was afraid of my own mind. And then my friend Spencer Reid made me understand myself better. He made me realise I could not give up hope. That I could change and grow and evolve into a better person and conquer the darkness within me.”_

        Garcia put the book down and gathered Reid in her arms, leaning her head against his in a show of friendly support. They sat in companionable silence for a moment and then Reid shifted, making eye contact with her.

 

         “He was almost better, Penelope. It’s such a shame he’s gone, now we’ll never know just what he could have accomplished.”

 

         She nodded, “But thanks to you, Spencer, he came out from the darkness and found light. He’ll see light forever now.”

 

 

It’s only when the night is darkest that you can see the light of the stars- _Elizabeth Hunter_


End file.
